My Boyfriend
by swastini
Summary: Yamanaka Ino searches for love, where ever she may find it! Ino x multiple


Ramblings of the Lonely and the Loveless

My Boyfriend

Entry 1: My boyfriend is nonexistent

Life sucks.

It just does, you know? Not that I'm to be emo or Goth or anything, but you get the picture.

Hello. My name is Yamanaka Ino; blonde, sexy and single. Single. I really, really, really – did I mention really? – hate that word. I mean, how hard is it to get a good guy around here? A guy with sensitivity and a hot body, with ambition and listening skills. Easy, I would have thought! Especially with my looks, charm and sex appeal. Why are boys such idiots! Why can't I get laid! It, as usual, took another month and a carton of double fudge ripple choc-o-block ice cream to figure out the answer. If he wouldn't come to me, I would have to go to him.

And so begins my epic journey of finding the One. Or maybe the Two, Three or Four. Hell, I'll take the Five if I have to! Anything to get an arm around my waist and a man in my bed. No more playing hard to get, or beating around the bush, or not calling them after our little fling because of the 'wait for a week before you talk again since he's a friend' rule only to find out he's getting married to some bitchy whore in half a year. (No, I am not referring to a certain ex-best friend of mine!) I am going to get a boyfriend whether I, or anyone else in that matter, like it or not.

I've decided that the first things I need are new clothes. This idea is partially an excuse to go shopping, but I am a girl, so therefore have perfectly good reasons. And because I'm an attractive girl, I went along with Forehead last Tuesday in fear of being 1) kidnapped and sold on the underground Tokyo prostitute trade (which would suck, I'm sure), or 2) raped/molested by a sex-crazed, middle aged janitor with nothing better to do (cough – like Jiraiya – cough). Either way, I went shopping with Forehead and I hated it, which sounds so wrong, since 'I', 'hate' and 'shopping' normally don't connect in one sentence. And no, you do not want to know who the mysterious 'Forehead' is because she's boring, uninteresting, and mind-numbingly dull.

……

Maybe I _should_ tell you something about her. I'll feel bad if I don't, and I need to get the word count of this entry up.

Forehead's real name is Haruno Sakura and I loathe her. Why, you may ask? Let me elaborate. Ever since our mom's entered us in the kindergarten beauty pageant, we have been sworn rivals, best friends, and all around bitches towards each other after we discovered the existence of the god of hotness himself, Uchiha Sasuke. But that's a story for another day. Maybe a short description will give you a clue about her. Sakura has a forehead the size of Tokyo, hence her nickname, pink hair, half of which I accidentally-on-purpose hacked off a month ago, green eyes, which have been covered by glasses for twelve years now, and likes the color red. Enough info for you? Good. I'm going to puke if I so much as think about her anymore.

Back to the shopping trip from hell.

It began in the Konoha mall, like many things in my life did, on that fine Tuesday afternoon. Okay, kidding about the fine part. The weather was sucky – raining, I didn't bring a raincoat or umbrella and Forehead wasn't willing to share – by the time I was inside I was freezing cold and dripping water from every fiber of my being. And then that stupid, dry, devil woman had the nerve to ask:

"Feeling damp, pig?"

I could've strangled her if we hadn't been in public and I didn't have a reputation as the lovely, 23 year old, SINGLE daughter of local florist Yamanaka Inoichi. So I just returned the insult with one of my own.

"Still look better than you, Forehead."

Her whole face turned pink. Burn! I'm so good.

Anyway, we were inside the mall, and that's when the nightmare started. Konoha has everything you'll ever need to buy: delicious food, the newest handbags, even an antique ninja weaponry shop (owned by the one and only Ten-chan!). Konaha has everything; everything except nice clothes. Retarded? Extremely. This best piece of fabric you'll ever buy here would be black silk pajamas with red clouds on them like the one's my cousin Deidara wear that make me look like a bloated blimp and Dei-kun look like a supermodel. Yes, I am calling my cousin hot, because he is. All his friends are too, especially Itachi. Oh yes, Itachi is hot. The things I would do to him…… So I had to get nice clothes for a nice man, which meant trudging across the entire mall, locked arms with Forehead, over to the Suna side. There, I've said it. I, fashion idol of many and beauty queen, went over to the Suna side of the Fire-Wind Shopping complex. You are allowed to maul me now, as the Suna side, apart from being poorly maintained and full of sand (how I will never now), is the crappiest place to be if you are from Konoha. Suna hates us, and we hate them back, with only a few exceptions. Sakura being one of them, we managed to sneak into our favorite little boutique where we met yet another of our numerous friends.

Whom I will mention due to an annoying conscious.

Hyuga Hinata. Shy beyond belief and nauseatingly kind, she works at the shop Kazekage selling clothes, lingerie, and other _interesting_ items under her tyrannical boss, Gaara. Hinata's eyes are a very scary shade of white thanks to a family illness that left her partially blind, along with an irritating speech impediment. She's mostly Forehead's friend – we don't see much of each other since she's always hanging out in Suna – but we get along pretty well. Now Gaara is a whole other story. I'm not saying anything because he doesn't like people talking about him, and he reads minds. Literally.

"Are you here for a reason? If not, I would advise you to leave."

God, he freaks me out.

I explained my predicament to Hinata, who merely nodded her head slowly and gave me some advice as I searched for the perfect g-string.

"I-I t-think you s-should s-stop looking s-so hard and w-w-wait for him t-to c-come t-to y-y-you."

Which I rolled my eyes to, and continued my search. In an hour alone, I had found one 'little black dress' (essential), two pairs of stiletto heel boots (hot), suggestive underwear (need I say more?) and assorted tops and bottoms to fill my closet with. Even Gaara was impressed with my speed. Nice. So Sakura and I packed everything into 7 or 8 bags, said bye to Hinata and began trudging all the way back to the Konoha side. We were almost there, passing the bridal shop, when I saw him. The reason why that stupid Tuesday was the worst Tuesday in the history of Tuesdays. Maybe even the worst day I ever had, period. Because as Sakura and I staggered along the bridal shop, Shikamaru, his hand clutching another girl's, walked past me. Straight past me, not even noticing I was there, his stupid pineapple hair bobbing up and down as he did. My heart felt like it was going to break into tiny, tiny little pieces. I almost dropped the bags. Then, after he was ahead of us, he turned back, stared at me like I repulsed him or was something horrible to look at, and kissed her. The other girl. Right in front of me, on purpose.

"Oh, Shika-kun, you naughty thing!"

She kissed him back. I felt like I was going to die; I couldn't breathe and my eyes were filled with tears. Of course, Forehead saw this and pulled me away before I broke down in the shopping mall, running all the way to her car. She shoved me in the front seat, entered the driver's side, put on our seatbelts and drove us home as I sobbed all the way back to my house. The end of the story? Unfortunately not. The next morning he actually called to ask if I could do the flower arrangements for his wedding. Bastard! I hung up the phone before he could say anything else and spent the rest of the afternoon in an over-sized t-shirt and shorts.

Well screw that!

I know who my real friends are, so _screw_ Nara, _screw_ future Mrs. Nara (poor whore), _screw_ sadness and _screw_ rejection. I am who I want to be, and there's nothing anyone can do about it! Woman power, bitches! Woman power!

Hah! Eat this, singledom, 'cause Yamanaka Ino is back in the dating game! Whoop, whoop! I totally turned heads at our reunion yesterday! Forehead was so jealous!

And that's all you need to know. I am shallow, after all.

No. I am not writing anymore. No one needs to know about our high school class reunion, the people who attended, and the possibility of a serious relationship.

Oh, what the heck. Fine, I'll spill the beans. I arrived at the posh hotel at 8:30 p.m. sharp in my white convertible Daddy bought for my 22nd birthday, decked in a purple dress. It was absolutely GORGEOUS; coming just above the knee, with long, flaring sleeves and a neckline that went down to my waist. My waist. Let's not forget the dangling amethyst earrings, snake-skin lilac purse and mauve stiletto heels. My chauffeur was drooling, the valet wide-eyed and every other male in the room close to a major nosebleed as I entered. I was dressed to make a statement. And, boy, did I make a statement. Naruto and Kiba whistled as I made my way down the stairs. Shino took of his glasses for a better look as I made my way to the table. Sasuke, believe it or not, slipped his telephone number into my hand as I sat beside Forehead, her face green with envy. I felt better than I had in weeks, and I could have easily been the best looking girl, no scratch that, person of all if it wasn't for those few.

Haruno, Hyuga, Uchiha, and Tenten.

I hate being outdone.

Sakura first. A classic strapless gown shouldn't have looked so darn good, but it was striking spring green, and her hair (with she had straightened just for this occasion) flowed down her back, looking longer than it was. Hinata and Neji – the latter wasn't in our year, but had come along to chaperone a certain cousin of his with friends Tenten and Lee – wore matching Hyuga robes, white and black blending together perfectly. I do mean perfectly. They looked like royalty; Neji sure as hell acted like it with his extraordinarily silky hair, which was longer than mine, and that ever present I'm-better-than-you attitude. Something to do with their family being one of the oldest and most revered in Japan. Uchiha beauty is legendary, so it was no surprise that Sasuke looked too sexy for words in his black tuxedo. And then there was Tenten. For a girl who wears nothing other then Polo shirts and jeans, she was looking good. Tenten can, and will, easily get a man in clothes like the ones she wore at the reunion. That was undoubtedly the best cheongsam I had ever seen, with slits that showed a reasonable amount of thigh without looking smutty and made from beautiful, Chinese pink silk.

And that's all. All the people looking good have been mentioned, as everyone else ranged from decent to god awful. Naruto in his orange tie, orange tux, and orange shoes have scarred me for life. Ughh.

Time to proceed to my budding affiliation with Chouji. For those who know him, I'm very glad to say he has changed, and when I say changed I mean lost weight. Finally listening to my advice, Akimichi? Chouji, Shikamaru the traitor and I grew up together; we go a long way back. Daddy hung out with Akimichi-san and Nara-san when they were kids, got married on the same day, and in some way always wished I would get married with either one of the boys. Both, even. Like many people, I couldn't stand them. Chouji was a pig who ate more than all other people in my class combined, and the bastard was a lazy ass I couldn't be bothered with. But Chouji, Chouji really does have the potential for something else. He pulled up a chair for me at dinner. He put food on my plate, and danced with me when my favorite song was playing. He avoided his asshole of a best friend to walk me to my car. He kissed me on the cheek before we left. And he's called me twice since then.

Daddy always said friends are the beginning of true love. I think he may be right.


End file.
